


Illumination

by ComingandGoingByBubble



Category: A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder - Lutvak/Freedman
Genre: F/M, Multi, Vampire AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-09 11:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComingandGoingByBubble/pseuds/ComingandGoingByBubble
Summary: Sibella,The contents of this letter and the subsequent following it, must be and can only be for your eyes alone, for I truly believe that if anyone else caught sight of what I have written here, I would be forever deemed as a laughing stock and an embarrassment to my Mother’s name and memory.





	1. The First Letter

**Author's Note:**

> This work is heavily based on "The Family of the Vourdalak" by Aleksey Konstantinovich Tolstoy. You should definitely check it out, it is an amazing and frightening story about vampires!

Sibella,

The contents of this letter and the subsequent following it, must be and can only be for your eyes alone, for I truly believe that if anyone else caught sight of what I have written here, I would be forever deemed as a laughing stock and an embarrassment to my Mother’s name and memory.

I beg of you, my darling Sibella, not to scoff and dismiss these words as the product of a man’s over-imaginative fantasy as you read over the strange and horrific tale that I have recounted within these pages. All of it is true, I swear on my mother’s grave, true and terrifying as Hell itself. You are my only source of solace, my source of comfort, and thus it is to you that I must recite this tale. 

I shall start at the beginning, you may recall that after Mother’s death, I resolved to do some traveling across the countryside, to rid myself of the terrible sadness that had befallen me after that terrible and sudden tragedy of losing Mother.

My plan was thus: to stay, at the gracious invitation of Lord Asquith D’ysquith, Sr at Highhurst Castle. It seems that he had known Mother, and Miss Shingle, a former friend of Mother’s and a maid at the castle, spoke on my behalf about my yearning to travel and he graciously allowed me a room in the castle while I journeyed to various other places.

As of yet, I had made no definitive plans on where to venture to, only that any place was better than Clapham. Any place that I was not haunted by my mother’s demise would be a welcome change of scenery.

And so, with Miss Shingle’s blessing, I set off for Highhurst. It took two days to reach the castle by way of a carriage and all the while, I mused on the rumors I had heard about the family I was to stay with.

_The D’ysquiths._

Marietta Shingle had told me precious little of my hosts. All she had said was that they were good people, misguided at best, and that their youngest female was a lady of fine and proper etiquette whom I might find most attractive. 

I had no knowledge of the horrors that would occur in that castle. Reflecting upon it, I suppose that the signs were there, but I was so wrapped up in my grief, in my despair over losing Mother that it was as if I had a film of heavy fog over my eyes.

You might think me a fool as I recount to you the rest of my journey in my next letter, but Sibella, my darling I beg of you to read my tale and think on me as you once knew me, the little boy in Clapham who would never tell such lies. I can only write down the truth and hope that you have it in your heart to believe me. 

If you still hold any affection for me, as I know you do, you’ll listen.

Until my next letter arrives,

Forever Yours,

Monty


	2. The Second Letter

My dearest Sibella,

My previous letter, I hope, has given you enough context for me to delve in deeper into the tale that I must tell you. In light of arriving to Highhurst Castle, I had found myself amidst a towering structure built for the likes of Kings, only to be inhabited by… less imposing figures than that of Kings, and more like vultures.

I arrived at an hour of formidable darkness, only to be received by a skeleton crew of domestic servants. My bags were taken up to my room, and a single member of the household greeted me in the great hall.

Lord Asquith D’ysquith Sr, I noticed, was a nervous but kindly man. Getting on in his years that was clear, but he still managed to conduct himself with grace as he shook my hand and bade me welcome to Highhurst.

“I am sorry that the rest of my family is not here to greet you as well, but it has been a tiring few days, with the local village seemingly up in arms about some… some creature that seems to be prowling these woods. I expect you did not come across such a fearsome beast while getting here?” he asked with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

I replied to him, “No, we did not encounter such a thing.”

Lord Asquith Sr. had laughed softly and said that the villagers were usually quite fearful and extremely superstitious when the unnatural occurred. I did not think any more of this, but I thought it odd that he brought such a thing up to me as the night grew dark.

We walked through the halls and he showed me to my room, hoping that I would have a pleasant stay while I make my journey. Tomorrow, he said, he would introduce me to the rest of the family. I thanked him profusely for his generosity, and then he was gone.

The next morning was when I indeed got a clearer look at the D’ysquith family. Not all of them stayed in the castle, it seemed, but many of them remained close by in the town, not wanting to abandon their family name, and not to mention, their inheritance, as Lord Asquith Sr’s health was waning.

Truth be told, Sibella, they reminded me of a pack of vultures, the whole lot of them. That, except for Phoebe.

As you may recall, Miss Shingle had informed me of a lady of the family whom’s reputation was of the highest pedigree and standing that she thought I might be attracted to. I say this, in knowledge that such words might make you jealous, but immediately upon seeing Miss D’ysquith, I have to admit that I fell quite in love with her.

Her face was the one I sought out in the crowd, the one I gravitated towards amidst the pack of vultures that carried the D’ysquith name.

Lord Asquith Sr. had me meet all of them, according to rank and stature. The order of it all has become muddled in my head, but I shall try to remember names.

There was Reverend Lord Ezekial, a member of the clergy. An odd, odd man with wide eyes and crooked hands.

Major Lord Bartholomew was a man of weights and strength and he did not seem interested in much else. He and Lionel would get along swimmingly, I suppose.

Asquith D’ysquith Jr. was a pompous ass, I’m afraid to say. Nothing like his father, whom I held such a high and positive impression of. He and Lionel too would get along, for he concerned himself with nothing but money and appearances and the frivolities of the female sex. He treated me with utter disdain and for that, I vowed not to get along with such a man.

Lord Adalbert D’ysquith was even worse. A man seemingly on the brink of madness, I did not know what to think on him, for he rattled on and on about how he hated the poor, how he hated the people of his village, and about some strange boar attack. Truth be told, I could not make a lick of sense of anything he was saying.

The one that I liked the best out of all of the men, besides Lord Asquith, was Henry D’ysquith, brother to Miss D’ysquith. A charming fellow, really. A bit peculiar but at least he was not a vulture, for he seemed to have a kind nature, just like Miss Phoebe D’ysquith.

Upon meeting Lady Hyacinth D’ysquith, I was sorely reminded of your Aunt Eleanor, for she had the same haughty and disdainful temperament that your Aunt also conveyed. Lady Hyacinth believed in charity and good will, if only she was to be seen as the one giving out the charity and good will. She looked down on others, much like your Aunt used to do, and immediately I disliked her fake nature very much so.

Lady Salome made my head hurt. A dramatic woman with a flair for enunciating her words as if she was on the stage at all times, I felt largely annoyed with her, but I did my best to seem pleased to make her acquaintance, though I was very glad when Lord Asquith Sr. moved me along to meet the other family members.

Lady Eugenia D’ysquith commanded a formidable presence, unlike her husband, Lord Adalbert. Her face was caked with too much white makeup, her dresses too godly, but she downright frightened me, if truth be told. Her eyes seemed to pierce right through me.

The last D’ysquith I was acquainted with was Phoebe D’ysquith. As I have stated earlier, my feelings for her became quite clear to me as soon as I met her, and she in turn, reciprocated my affections, all the while maintaining her modesty. She was fair of face and nature, with beautiful dark tresses with eyes to match. My love was very strong for her upon first glance and it bloomed even more with every conversation that we had throughout the day. We chatted long into the night in the sitting room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. She read to me a book from her library, about herbs and poisons and I found myself endlessly fascinated with her.

My darling Sibella, please do not stop reading for the jealousy that I know will consume you upon reading this. My love and affection for you still holds true, no matter the feelings I had for Miss D’ysquith. But, in order to tell the whole truth of this story, I fear I must impart this information on you, for I felt very much so that I was falling in love with Phoebe and wanted to marry her.

I admit that I had neglected our pact as children, to once marry each other, and live out our days happily. Mother’s death affected me more than I had let on to you, and I found myself clinging to any source of happiness that I could, and seeing as that you had started to court Lionel, I saw no chance for us, and took my hope elsewhere, straight into the kind smile of Miss Phoebe D’ysquith.

Please, my darling, I beg of you, do not be so jealous of me that you tear my letter to pieces in a fit of rage. Do so let those emotions consume you, but do not let it destroy our communication, for writing the horrid truth to you is all I have now.

I’ll admit that my feelings for Miss D’ysquith seemed to increase by the hour, and anything else that occurred in the castle seemed to be but a nuisance to me.

That was, until Lord Adalbert D’ysquith announced at dinner that he was going out to kill that wild, mythical beast that so haunted the village.

I fear that is all I have time to write, for my ink is running low. I shall continue on the morrow, my love.

Yours forever,

Monty.


	3. The Third Letter

My dear Sibella,

The outburst of Lord Adalbert at dinner certainly caused my interest to be piqued, for I had never imagined that such superstitions could take hold in such a prestigious and dignified family such as the D’ysquiths.

The common people yes, such superstitions are integral in how they conduct their lives, but those of nobility, I had never thought to consider that they too might believe in such things.

You know, dearest Sibella, better than anyone, that I myself am a skeptic at heart, that I believe that things need to be seen in order to be truly believed. As such, at dinner, I found myself the sole voice of reason amongst the family in their response to Lord Adalbert’s announcement.

The various Lords of the household commended his efforts and valiantry, though I sorely believe it was out of making a name for himself and madness, and vowed that should the worst occur, that they would make him a martyr and set his likeness in stone in memory of him. Lady Eugenia only rolled her eyes at her husband’s nuisances, obviously she did not believe it to be true but she did not say otherwise.

Reverend Lord Ezekial droned on and on about how his soul would be martyred and how God would claim him as divine for attempting to slay a beast so foul-some and fierce.

It was then, in that moment, that I realized that I knew precious little of this beast of which they spoke of. Seeing as such, I raised my voice to ask about it.

I was greeted with a deadly silence.

But it was Miss Phoebe, who broke it, coughing a little and regaling me with the story of how these woods came to be haunted by this menacing creature, beast or man no one could tell for it seemed to shift into whatever form it chose and whatever body it needed for its deed. The creature was as pale as the moon and was out for blood, and sucked on innocent victims. Two hundred years ago, it came for the village and eradicated the population, each person dying off like flies, only to rise again as the undead. These undead creatures haunted the village, their bodies only vessels for their evil, malicious actions of draining blood. Various unfortunate people passing through the seemingly deserted village would meet an unfortunate fate. It only ended when the authorities and a decree from the King himself came, and soldiers who learned the ancient ways came through in the mornings and staked each member of the village through the heart, thus ending the mass destruction.

Although, it was said that the creature who first started the bloody massacre had fled, and was still at large, and that was the creature that these village people feared. 

Reports of such dead people rising again seemed to be the talk of the village of late, Henry D’ysquith reported to me quietly. 

In the olden days, Phoebe said, if one went looking for such creature, or an undead person similar to them, that the one who dared to brave the evils of Hell would only have ten days time to do so for the creature was quick, and fast, and often those who vowed to kill it did not do so without dying themselves. Unsuspecting family members would welcome their loved ones home with opened arms, not realizing until it was too late, and thus family line after family line would be destroyed.

The story chilled me to the bone, but surely it was all superstition. The thought of dead men walking was merely a child’s night terror. I said as such out loud, laughing as I did.

“You won’t be laughing when the dead come for you, Mr. Navarro” uttered Lord Asquith Jr. casting a dark look my way. I gave him an even one back.

“I must say that I fear many a thing in this life, Lord Asquith Jr., but the dead rising from their graves is not one of them. I fear for my soul incurring the wrath of God, I feel for the ones I loved, but I do not fear dead men.”

I confess that my somewhat witty remark was again met with silence, and I feared that the time for joking was gone.

The other relatives, those whom I have introduced earlier in this installment of letters, largely ignored the pleas of a simple traveler who was staying in their home.

They went to bed, their minds made up that Lord Adalbert would go in search of the creature, come hell or high water.

I found myself more anxious than I cared to admit.

Until my next letter,

Forever yours,

Monty.


	4. The Fourth Letter

Sibella,

Now that I have explained the strange occurrences that surrounded Highhurst Castle, I must once again harp on my affection for Miss D’ysquith once more. I know such words pain you, but during that time when Lord Adalbert went out on his hunt, and the waiting period of ten days, I busied myself by being in her company at almost every hour.

As I have remarked beforehand, she had a peculiar interest in all things occult and odd. I assumed this was a family trait, for the whole family seemed very superstitious, probably due to their precarious situation of being the wealthiest people in the village, and therefore targeted by all. When one has money, as you well know, one does not have much to do to pass the time, and so Miss D’ysquith preoccupied herself with readings of the occult and all things strange. 

I found myself fascinated by these stories that she relayed to me in the library, the sense of fear had left me whenever I was in her company. As each day passed, however, there was no sign of Lord Adalbert, and slowly and surely the house’s occupants began to grow restless with worry, including Miss Phoebe D’ysquith.

She no longer read me the stories towards the end of that week, opting instead to stare at the front door of the castle, waiting for her uncle to appear.

Once, and only once, I asked of her what if the worst should occur and that he did not return. I said this not to be hurtful or to bring her pain, only to be truthful and practical.

The look that appeared on her pale, fair face still haunts me to this day. She glanced up at me from the door, and with a quiet, low voice said this:

“It is not simply a matter of whether or not he should return, it very much concerns with _what he will return to us as._ ”

I did not dare to ask another question, for in that moment, I had the good sense to finally have some dread about the strange happenings at Highhurst.

I know that you shall criticize me, my Sibella, for being so dim-witted, so blinded by love as to not sense danger when it warns, but I found myself much enamored by Phoebe that I realized such too late.

That day was filled with bad omens, I should have known then to pack up and flee, but like the fool I am, I did not. I wanted to see the strange conclusion to this hunt.

At dinner, the most horrid thing happened.

It was the tenth day, or so we all believed it to be, for the days had run into one another, and everyone had been too wracked with nerves to keep track. We were all at the table, eating the first course when Lord Asquith D’ysquith Sr. suddenly dropped into his soup, dead. 

I found myself attending to Miss Phoebe, and comforting her the rest of the evening. She could not find solace in sleep, so we stayed stationary in the library that evening. The hours waxed and waned, and I had left my watch in my bedroom. Everyone else had, sadly and grief-stricken, gone to bed.

The clock struck midnight, the chimes ringing out against the cold night air, when all of a sudden, both Phoebe and I heard a harsh knocking at the door. I went to see who it was, and lo and behold, there was Lord Adalbert D’ysquith, back from the hunt, covered in blood and mud, with a sack over his shoulder.

“Is a poor Uncle who’s been out slaying a beast to be denied entrance to his home by his ungrateful niece?” He spat at Phoebe, and the poor dear, in her grief and astonishment, opened the door and bade him entrance. 

He stalked through the doors, and I merely attributed this to his tendency towards madness and anger, and thought nothing of it. 

Whatever was in his sack reeked of blood and flesh, and Phoebe fled from his presence to wake the others, to tell the good news that their Uncle had returned to them, especially seeing as they had lost their other family member this evening. A life for a life, I grimly thought as I looked at the other man.

To my eye, he did not look like one who had been afflicted by vampirism, (I had come into knowledge that that was indeed what Phoebe and her relatives had hinted at, vampirism), but then again, I was no scholar or expert on the subject. 

He seemed irritable though, largely more so than he had been before he had left. I suspected this was because of the hunt. Catching and killing a beast stirs the blood in a man’s body like nothing else, or so I’ve heard, you know as well as I do that I do not partake in such a grisly sport.

As the other relatives woke up, I silently retreated back to my room, suddenly heavily tired. Perhaps the shock of it all was upon me. 

The shocking death of Lord Asquith Sr. was quite distressing to me, for I had come to enjoy the old man’s company and genuinely appreciated his goodness and kindness towards me. He, for the few short days I had known him, had acted more of a father to me than anyone else in my life. The loss I felt at his sudden departure made it hard to feel any joy in Lord Adalbert’s return to the castle.

It was at this point that I had decided to try and write to you, my dear Sibella, although I confess that I never sent it for the strange tidings of this castle came to haunt me. The most peculiar thing occurred that night. I had finally gone to sleep, when I was awakened by the sensation of someone watching me. I pulled back the curtains around the bed, to see in the window with his face pressed up to the glass, Lord Adalbert.

I found this most peculiar, and even horrifying, considering it had been long since everyone had supposedly gone to bed, including the Lord. 

His stare pierced through me and as soon as he had appeared, he vanished and I was left feeling shaken and suspicious.

I shall have to continue my tale tomorrow, my dear.

Forever yours,

Monty.


	5. The Fifth Letter

My dear Sibella,

I confess onto you that this tale only becomes more grim, and horrifying than the events that I have already transcribed to you. I relayed the strange aparration of Lord Adalbert that night, with his face pressed against my window. Arrangements for Lord Asquith Sr. were made upon the morning light, but they kept his body in the cellar, until the mortician could arrive. The mortician was in the next town over and would not be able to arrive until two days time.

It was at this moment that I considered strongly upon declaring my intention to marry Miss Phoebe D’ysquith. I admit that in light of things that this was probably the last thing that the family was prepared for, but everyone had seen my obvious attraction to her, and hers in return, and I was anxious to make haste for my travels. The longer I stayed at Highhurst, the less I liked it. I knew that if I married Phoebe, I would be able to get an estate of my own, free from any previous attachments of family or heritage. It would be just for us.

Alas, the timing of such a proclamation was not to be. I was forced to keep my affections to myself as things went from bad to worse at Highhurst castle.

Nighttime seemed to be the worst, for I was continually haunted by the apparition of Lord Adalbert at my window, even though I was quite certain he was asleep in his room with Lady Eugenia.

I confided in Phoebe what I had seen, for I knew that out of everyone, she would tell me the truth. I confess, Sibella, that the occupants of the castle, had been… somewhat strange even since the death of Lord Asquith Sr. and the return of Lord Adalbert. 

Lord Adalbert refused to have any of us even utter grace, or the word of God in his presence. I noticed a strange lack of appetite in him, and his countenance seemed to grow paler and paler with each hour.

Upon revealing what I had seen to Phoebe, she seemed alarmed and immediately informed her brother Henry and her Aunt Eugenia.

I meant no harm in telling them what I had seen, for surely there was a simple explanation for it all. Perhaps Lord Adalbert was now prone to sleep walking, after all traumatic events can cause strange things to happen to the mind.

Alas, Phoebe confided to me that the family was mostly agreed upon that Lord Adalbert had come back as a vampire, and that actions would be taken soon to rid him from this earth so no harm would come to no one else in the family.

I confess that I found all of this ridiculous, but then that very night, at my window, I saw the fresh face of Lord Asquith D’ysquith Sr. alongside Lord Adalbert and I knew the terrible truth.

Forever yours,

Monty.


	6. The Sixth Letter

Sibella,

The tale that I started in my last letter must seem the stuff of a child’s fantasy, but I can only press onto you that every word I write is the truth. That horrid, horrid night I saw both Lord Adalbert and Lord Asquith’s faces against my window, their forms almost ghostly in the moonlight. 

To be truthful, Sibella, I feared for my life. They moved on silently from my window to Phoebe’s, and I confess that the adrenaline that coursed through my veins filled me with a courage I have yet to replicate. 

I jumped out of bed and barged into Miss D’ysquith’s room with the most impolite manners, I merely ran to the window to scare off the men.

Miss D’ysquith awoke from her slumber suddenly, and startled she barely had the chance to cry out before I threw open her curtains and revealed the faces of her relatives, in their dead forms. 

She must have thought me mad, or a deranged villain with evil intentions before I threw open the window and revealed to her the horrible truth. 

She screamed upon laying eyes on her relatives, and the sound was loud enough to wake her brother, Henry, who came bustling in.

I thought, for a moment, he was going to reprimand me, or worse fight me for his sister’s honor, but luckily for me, his gaze soon turned towards the forms of Lord Adalbert and Lord Asquith Sr.

Before I knew it, the rest of the household was awake. Henry and Lord Asquith D’ysquith Jr. vowed to put an end to such madness, and forever rid themselves of their supposed vampiric relatives. Henry retrieved a stake from his rooms, one that which Lord Asquith had once given him in case such an event like this should occur. Everyone was bustling about as the two younger men prepared to go hunt down these vampires. Phoebe was crying most horribly at the mere thought of anyone else getting hurt or suffer the same fate as Lord Adalbert and Lord Asquith Sr. 

I made it my duty to stay by her side, keeping her company in the parlor, while Henry and Asquith Jr. set off to chase the undead forms of their relatives. 

The rest of the house waited on bated breath. Time seemed to stand still, a heavy film over us all as we waited and watched. Night turned into early morning and there was still no sign of them.

Phoebe, the poor dear, was fretting dreadfully, crying in my arms. It was then that I made my intentions plan to her, although I realize that the timing of such declaration was all wrong. 

I said to her that I should protect her and vow to keep her safe as my wife, if she agreed to marry me, that if this nasty business with her family continued or worsened that I would take her away from this corrupted castle and we would steal away to a home of our own, one that was filled with life and love, not death and horror. 

She accepted me through her tears, and I held her tightly, wanting to impress upon her how much I did care for her, and how I wished to keep her safe.

I should make it plain now, that such things did not occur, my Sibella.

I did not wed Miss Phoebe D’ysquith, but another took my place as her groom.. 

His name was Death.

My next letter should arrive shortly, I am sorry to leave you on such a horrific statement, but it must be done for I need time to recollect the horror that took place at Highhurst that night.

Forever Yours,

Monty.


	7. The Last Letter

My Sibella,

The next night, Henry and Asquith Jr. returned to the castle, bloodied and disheveled. Almost immediately upon entering, Henry asked for an audience with me alone.

I admit that I felt hesitant to do so, but found that I could not refuse such an invitation, for the D’ysquiths were my gracious hosts. After all, I truly did not know what to make of the things that I had seen that night with Lord Adalbert Sr. and Lord Asquith. 

He made his intentions clear and direct.

I was to leave on the morrow for the rest of my travels and not come back.

I imagine, of course, that he disapproved of my offer of marriage to Phoebe, his sister. The despair I felt in that moment was only rivaled by the despair I felt when you, my love, shunned me in favor of Lionel Holland. I could not bring myself to even say goodbye, for even seeing her porcelain face made me want to weep.

I confess that I thought nothing more of the whole incident with the two Lords the other night. All I could think about was Phoebe.

However, the night before I left, that strange dream and occurrence at my window happened again. This time, I imagined that I was only dreaming and did not cry out. For surely my mind was fanciful and overtired due to the thought of having to leave Miss Phoebe D’ysquith to marry someone else.

The next morning, I left before the sun rose.

I won’t bore you with details of my travels, my love, for surely you care nothing for Switzerland, nor the Italian coast line. I was abroad for a good two months, and then one day, I decided I’d had enough.

My longing for Miss Phoebe was now replaced by utter yearning for you, my Sibella. I found myself anxious to return to you, to be with you, to challenge Lionel to a duel and win your heart and hand. As such were my affections, I hastened the fastest train home, but we were unexpectedly delayed near Highhurst castle due to a freak weather accident. 

Thinking nothing on it, I thought it only appropriate to go back to the castle to give them my thanks for their hospitality. For it was the least I could do, and I only thought it necessary since I was in town.

I asked a driver to accompany me, but to my absolute confusion, the man refused and crossed himself repeatedly, almost obsessively until I left his sight. Again and again I asked for a coach to take me there, but no one would dare take me to Highhurst castle. They spoke of nothing odd about it, just gave me strange horrified looks and crossed themselves.

I managed to get a fellow to drop me off a mile from the gates, and thus I walked to the estate nearing nighttime. The village was oddly quiet, almost deserted. Along the way, I came across a stray horse, upon which I ventured on the rest of the way to the castle. In that moment, dear Sibella, I thanked the heavens that you teased me till I learned to ride a horse. 

The castle was dark when I arrived, no light shone through any of the windows, and it seemed as deserted as the village below it. I half thought of turning around, and abandoning my journey when I heard the light voice of Miss Phoebe D’ysquith singing. 

The noise was faint, but enough that I found myself curious. The doors opened for me, and I followed her voice to her old rooms. The castle, I’m afraid to tell, had fallen into disarray and disrepair. Cobwebs covered the furniture like a light dust of snow, lights were half broken and were not lit. The place seemed as empty as a lone tomb.

It is here that I must tell you of my foolish nature, my Sibella. Against my better judgement, against all rational thought, against the signs that I should have left Highhurst Castle and never ventured back within its walls, I found myself entranced by Phoebe’s voice, for the mere memory of her was enough to dis-spell any signs of danger for me.

Her door was parted open when I arrived but strangely her voice disappeared as soon as I crossed the threshold. I found her rooms to be empty, and largely left to the elements. It was as if on the morning I had left, the castle had ceased to exist any longer as a residence.

I briefly considered the worst. That they had all died, and become the Undead, but the horrifying nature of it all left my mind as soon as it had entered. 

No, no surely such a thing was still just superstition.

Sibella, I was so blind. So very blind in my belief that after everything I had seen and witnessed, that it was all some sort of folly, some sort of imaginative illusion. Even as I was standing in Miss Phoebe’s room, with not a soul left in the castle, I still denied the awful truth that seemed to stare at me straight in the face.

I became rather melancholy in the still silence, for the ever adventure I had had within the walls of Highhurst, and I confess that I laid down on the bed and fell asleep, for I had been traveling for the latter part of two days and hadn’t had much time to rest. 

When I awoke, Phoebe was there, a gentle hand caressing my cheek as she sat above me. I sat up startled, and tried to explain myself but Phoebe only smiled, and my heart and soul melted in that moment.

“I thought you had left me for good,” Phoebe whispered, her fingers gently stroking my skin.

“I came back to apologize for my rudeness upon leaving,” I answered her, “Where is everyone else? I should like to speak with them.”

It was then that her eyes became sad and strange. She glanced down at the sheets and then back up at me. Her voice became choked.

“There is no one else, not anymore,” she admitted, her eyes soft. Her fingers went still on my cheek. I found myself reaching for her hand, and taking it in my grasp, to comfort her. 

“I am so sorry, Phoebe.”

She gave me a sad, small smile in return for my condolences. 

“It’s alright, for now we can be together,” she murmured.

It was that declaration of being together, of the senseless abandonment of her family that made my stomach churn. The hairs of the back of my neck tingled, and I felt the air change. 

I did not have much time to react before she kissed me then, her lips pressing hard against mine, her hands coming to grasp at my waist. 

For some reason, perhaps it was my better judgement acting in that moment, I decided to open my eyes. The night was still dark and dreary but the moonlight had peeked through the clouds to shine down upon the land.

Rays of moonlight streamed in from the sky, but that was not what caught my attention.

It was the faces pressed up against the window, watching me. 

Lord Adalbert. Lord Asquith D’ysquith Sr. Lord Asquith Jr. Lady Eugenia. Lord Ezekial. All of them, even Henry. Even Lady Salome and Lady Hyacinth. 

They were all crowded around the window, waiting in the darkness, ready to pounce. 

Their faces were terrible as the moonlight shone down on them. One minute, in the darkness, they were perfectly fine, but as soon as the light hit their skin, it turned rotted and ruined. Corpse-like. But their eyes, their eyes saw and they hated. They lust for blood. Their clothes were tattered, much like their own skin. They had become what they had always feared. 

Terror gripped my heart, but I stifled my gasp as Phoebe pulled away suddenly. 

The horror increased when the moonlight hit her own face, and I found her beautiful porcelain skin to be just as rotted and corrupted as her relatives. Her hair was thin, and lost its shimmer and splendor. Her smile had rotted away to a horrifying lustful smirk. Her eyes were as black as Hell itself. My once beloved Phoebe had turned into a creature of the night, similar to that beast that she had been so frightened of. And I had been unable to save her from such a fate.

I realized quickly on, that I could play dumb. That Phoebe did not realize that the moonlight changed her appearance, nor did she realize that I could see her relatives waiting outside the window.

Her mangled hand, covered with blood and the skin torn reached out to touch my cheek and I inwardly shuddered as she did so. Her voice, when she spoke, was no longer musical, but raspy and cold like the grave.

“Have you lost all love for me, or do you still wish for me to be your bride?” she croaked, her face tilted and I could see straight through the left side of her face for the skin had melted away. 

I felt ill, but I concealed my disgust with a small smile. 

“Of course, my dear.” I lied, “Let me saddle the horse and I shall whisk you away to a life ever after.”

She smiled, a terrible smile and my fear increased tenfold. I somehow managed to stumble out of the room, and out towards the stables where I had tied up my horse. I constantly glanced back over my shoulder, to see if any of the D’ysquiths had followed me, but none appeared. 

I took a gamble, peering towards the side of the castle, and saw their silhouettes in the shadows, still standing by Phoebe’s window, ready to pounce and make me one of the Undead.

They did not suspect my treason.

I quietly saddled up my horse and got on, riding as swiftly as I could. Once a safe distance away, only then did I glance back at the castle and its ghosts. Shouts and growls seemed to erupt from the estate, as surely they realized that I had deceived them and made my escape. 

I rode hard back to the train station, not stopping to check after my shoulder, the memory of Phoebe’s ghastly rotted face pressing me on towards home, towards you, my love.

Death had made her and her family his relatives, and I had nearly escaped his grasp. 

The deep fear that had taken root in me during that terrible brush with Death has stayed with me. I have been afraid to travel anywhere near the castle, nor anywhere in England, for the memory of what happened there has frightened me to my very core.

I confess now, my dear Sibella, that I find myself unable to come back to you. The horrors that I have endured have left me unable to sleep, unable to shake the terrifying thought that somewhere Phoebe and her relatives are waiting for me, wanting to turn me into one of them and claim me as one of the Undead.

The medications that the doctors prescribe do little to nothing to help in this regard. I fear they think me mad, but I have been trying to explain to them, as I have just done to you, that what I have been through was a horrific ordeal and one that I need to heal from.

Currently I’m on route to Norway, to get as far north as I can, away from all of this haunting and horrible truth.

My love for you has not waned nor ceased. I still want to marry you, if Lionel would just drop dead. Or perhaps I could arrange a visit for Lionel to go to Highhurst Castle, and let Phoebe and her relatives have at him. I sincerely hope that you do not believe me utterly mad. It is my one hope that you still care for me and still hold affection for me. As such, I hope that these letters have illuminated my plight and why I have been so silent about my travels and what occurred at Highhurst Castle. 

I beg of you, Sibella, to write me a reply, professing your love and your support, of your belief that I would never lie to you, and that every word that I have transcribed here is true. 

Sibella, your words perhaps will convince me to come back to Clapham, to come back to you, to forget this horrid nightmare that I have endured, and live out a life like we have always imagined.

This is my last letter until I receive a reply, for I dare not utter another word about what happened at Highhurst until I hear from you and know that you believe me.

If I have offended you with these letters and the contents of my journey, I humbly beg your forgiveness. If you decide to cease all contact with me, for if you fear my sanity and fear that I have gone mad, please know that I do not and would not blame you. 

The horrifying truth must be seen to be believed and I know that I can only tell you of what I’ve seen and hope that you shall believe me.

I love you. Always.

Forever yours,

Montague Navarro.


End file.
